The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1887-06-13

we may be too feeble to employ either of
these familiar forms; but this PRAYER of
Stephen is so short, is so concise, is so
earnest, is so comprehensive, we surely will
be able TO say that: Lord Jesus, receive
my spirit" o, if that prayer is answered,
how sweet it will be to die! This world is
clever enough to us. Perhaps it has treated
us great deal better than we deserved to
be treated; but if ON the dying pillow there
shall break the light of that better world,
we shall have no more regret about leaving
a small, dark, damp house for one large,
beautiful and capacious. That dying min
lister in Philadelphia, some years ago, beau
tifully depicted It when, in the last moment,
he threw up his hands and cried out: II
move into the light"
Pass on now, and | will show Won one
more picture, and that is Stepheh asleep
With pathos and simplicity peculiar to the
Scriptures, the text says of Stephen: He
fell asleep" go" you say, 'what a place
that was to sleep! A hard rock under him,
stones falling down upon him, the blood
streaming, the mob bowling. What place
it was TO sleepm And yet my text takes
that symbol Of slumbcr to describe his de
parture, so sweet was it., SO contented was
1t, so peaceful was it. Stephen had lived a
very laborious life His chief work had
been to care for the poor. How many loaves
of bread he distributed, how many bare feet
he had sandaled, how many cots of sickness
and distress he blessed with ministries of
kindness and love, do not know; but from
the way he lived, and the way he
preached, and the way he died,
know he was laborious Christian
But that is all over now; He has
pressed the cup to the last fainting lip
He has taken the last insult from his enc
mics. The last stone TO whose crushing
weight he is susceptible has been hurled
Stephen is dead The disciples come. They
take him up They wash away the blood
from the wounds. They straighten out the
bruised limbs. They brush back the tangled
hair from the brow, and then they pass
around to look upon the calm countenance
of him who had lived for the poor and died
for the truth. Stephen asleep! have seen
the sea driven with the hurricane until the
tangled foam caught in the rigging, and
wave rising above wave seemed as il about
TO storm the heavens, and then have seen
the tempest drop, and the
waves crouch, and everything be-
come smooth and FURNISHED as though a
camping place for the glofies of heaven So
l have seen a man whose life has been tossed
and driven, coming down at last to an IN
finite calm, in which there was the hush of
heavens lullaby Stephen asleep / saw
such an one. He fought all his days against
poverty and against abuse. They traduced
his name. They ratified at the door knob
while he was dying, with duns for debts he
could not pay; yet the peace of God brooded
over his pillow, and while the world faded,
heaven dawned, and the deepening twilight
of earths night was only the opening twi-
light of heavens morn. Not a sigh. Not
tear. Not struggle. Hush Stephen
asleepl
have not the faculty to tell the weather
| can never tell by the setting sun whether
there will be a drought or not. | cannot
tell by the blowing of the wind whether it
viii be fair weather or foul ON the morrow.
But / can prophesy, and l will prophesy
what weather twill be when you, the Chris
tian, come to die. You may have it very
rough now 1t may be this week one an
noyance, the next another annoyance.
1t may be this year one bereavement,
the next another bereavement. Before this
year has passed you may have TO beg for
bread or ask for scuttle of coal or "a pair
of shoes; but spread your death couch amid
the leaves of the forest, or make 1t out OF
the straw of pauper's hut, the wolf i'll the
Jungle bowling close by, or inexorable cred
itors Jerking the pillow from under your
dying head--Chrlst will come in and dark
ness will go out And though there may be
no hand to close your eyes, and no breast on
which to rest your dying head, and no
candle TO lift the night, the odors of Gods
hanging garden viii regale your soul, and
at your bedside will halt the chariots of the
King. No more rents to pay, no more
agony because -four has gone up, no more
struggle with 'the world, the flesh and the
G-yfl;' but peace--long, deep, everlasting
peace. Stephen asleepl
''Asleep in Jesus blessed sleep
From which none ever wake To weep;
calm and undisturbed repose
Uninjured by the Last of foes.
ASLEEP In Jesus far from thee
Thy kindred and their graves may be;
But there Is still n blessed Sleep
From which none ever wake To weep"
You have seen enough for one morning.
No one can successfully examine more than
five pictures in a day. Therefore We stop,
having seen this cluster of divine Raphaels
Stephen gazing into heaven; Stephen
looking at Christ; Stephen stoned Stephen
in his dying prayer; Stephen asleep.